


Fill You Up

by jejunestars



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean, Breathplay, Comeplay, Dirty Talk, M/M, PWP, Schmoop, Top Sam, Toys, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-11
Updated: 2014-11-11
Packaged: 2018-02-24 22:32:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2598956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jejunestars/pseuds/jejunestars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's way too early for this, Dean thinks. Way too fucking early in the day for Sam to start his fucked up kinky shit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fill You Up

**Author's Note:**

> For [Jay](http://tenderjensen.tumblr.com), who wanted some schmoopy, smutty morning sex. ♥

Dean could get used to waking up like this.

Having his brother plastered against his back, sticky with sweat and come and lube and whatever the hell else from the night before should gross him out, make him want to stand under the shower for a solid hour, but it _doesn't_ ; and his body betrays him, its first instinct a rush of blood from his head to his dick, hardening before he even has a chance to think of anything remotely dirty.

But, to be fair, the dried mess of his own come on his stomach is gross enough to make him squirm against Sam. He tries to get up from the bed, unsuccessfully, when Sam grabs onto his arms and pulls him back down and against him.

"Mmm," Sam mumbles, rubbing his nose against the back of Dean's neck. Dean twitches, resisting the urge to wriggle out of Sam's grasp because it tickles, but Sam keeps nuzzling his face against Dean's skin and Dean can feel the fucker's smug smile against him.

"Quit it," Dean whines, jamming his heel into Sam's shin, and Sam hisses and draws back a little.

"Asshole," he complains, punching Dean on the arm. Dean grunts and stretches his body out, arching against Sam, the stiffness of his joints and muscles a heavy reminder of last night. His ass gives a dull throb as he moves, as if he could even forget what happened in the first place.

"Don't push me," Dean threatens, his lips pulling up into a smile, but he settles himself back against Sam anyway, wriggles his ass so it fits perfectly in the curve of his brother's body, pressed tight against his crotch. He forgets about his shower, forgets about anything else, really.

For a minute he thinks Sam's gone back to sleep, but then his brother's not-so-subtle boner pressed against his ass tells him everything he needs to know. He smirks into the pillow.

Sam grinds against him, slow and careful, and Dean can't stop himself from pushing back, precome from the head of Sam's cock slicking along his skin.

Sam's fingers dance carefully along Dean's skin, stopping short at the curve of Dean's ass and he rubs his palm there softly, like some kind of apology for what he put it through last night. Dean wants to snort into the sheets, but he figures that's as much of a mood killer as kicking at his brother, so he goes with it.

Sam fumbles his way across Dean's ass and rubs the pad of his finger softly against Dean's hole. Dean moans, but it's lazily, and he lets the little circles Sam draws against him soothe him into a cloudy lull.

"Fuck, yeah, Dean," Sam breathes against his ear. "Still so open for me."

Dean groans, perking up, tight curl in his belly at the thought of last night, at how it had all been desperate, Sam holding him down, face first, against the mattress and fucking him until he couldn't even see straight.

"Gonna fuck me again?" Dean asks, because he never got the chance to speak last night, never even got the chance to touch, his hands tied together around his back and mouth controlled under a gag that Sam pulled out of nowhere and tied around his head and over his lips before he could even protest. Not like the would have, anyway.

"God, yes," Sam says, and Dean hears him popping open the cap of lube from the night stand, squirting it onto his fingers. He braces himself against the bed, breath hitching in his throat as Sam thrusts two fingers in at once, curling them sloppily around inside him, and Dean still feels so loose and open from last night that he presses back against Sam's fingers, silently begging for more.

Sam doesn't even bother with another finger, just frees them and replaces them with his dick straight away, thick head pushing past the rim and inside Dean in one smooth motion.

"Fucked you open so good last night, Dean," Sam mumbles against him, staying completely still with his dick buried all the way inside Dean. "Just slid right on in, fuck-"

Dean pushes forward and halfway off Sam's cock before thrusting himself back onto it with a drawn-out groan, and Sam grips onto his hips so hard that Dean has to bite his lip to keep from crying out, screaming and begging.

"Yeah, Dean, fuck yourself on me, c'mon, do it-"

And Dean does, despite how sore and used his body and ass feels, how each push back onto Sam's cock makes his insides ache in the best way possible. Sam's spilling a chorus of filthy words into Dean's ear, urging him on, and Dean whines as he nears his orgasm, knows he's gonna come apart just with Sam's cock inside him, brushing over his prostate on every thrust.

Dean's close already, feels himself falling apart with Sam murmuring filthy, obscene words into his ear. Sam trails his fingers along Dean's skin and Dean thinks he's going to take his cock in his hand and his stomach flutters, so eager and ready for release, but Sam doesn't stop until he gets his palm up to Dean's throat.

Dean keeps fucking himself on Sam, even as Sam's hand slides tight around his neck, and he splutters around the pressure, Sam's fingers pushing against his Adam's apple and sending his brain into a fuzzy, fucked up spin. Sam squeezes a couple times and it's all Dean needs before he's coming, cock untouched.

He spurts all over his stomach and the sheets, hot ropes of come spilling out from him, his hands fisting hard in the sheets and his entire body seizing up and letting go. He's clenching like crazy around Sam's dick and Sam takes over, fucking into him once, twice before he stills and comes inside Dean with a groan, holding Dean's body against him as he fills him up. Dean feels it painting his insides, warm and wet and crazy hot.

Sam slumps against him after, breathing heavy and deep. They come down together, Dean trying not to focus on the cooling come all over his skin.

Sam pulls out with a grunt and Dean relaxes, burying his face into the pillow. But Sam's dick is instantly replaced with his fingers, one, two fingers circling the tender rim of his hole, puffy and bruised and still stretched wide.

"Fuck, Dean," Sam whispers, pushing a finger inside. "Looks so good, so fucking- so _open_ , so used, fuck."

"Sammy," Dean groans pushing back against Sam's finger and Sam sighs into the back of his head. "Gonna get me hard again, Jesus."

Sam laughs lightly and presses his finger in further, meeting no resistance from Dean, too fucked out and boneless to be anything but a sloppy, weightless mess.

He feels Sam's come start to dribble out and around Sam's finger, and he loves this part, wants Sam to clean him up with his tongue or raise a couple come-slicked fingers to Dean's mouth so that Dean can suck it all off Sam's skin, the taste of both of them heavy on his tongue. But Sam pushes another finger inside him, punching all the air out of Dean, and stems the flow of the hot, thick liquid. Dean bites into his lip, his ass sore and stinging around the new stretch.

"Gonna keep it inside," Sam whispers, hot, sweet breath over his ear. The blood in Dean's body is having difficulty deciding what to do, rushing straight to his spent dick and right up to his face, warm blush spreading over his cheeks. "Gonna fuck you again, spill another load inside you. Gonna fill you up, Dean."

It's way too early for this, Dean thinks. Way too fucking early in the day for Sam to start his fucked up kinky shit. But he can't protest, he never can, not when Sam's sliding back inside him, using his come to slick the way, burying himself deep in Dean's ass, his balls pressed tight against Dean's skin. Sam does this way more often now, keeps Dean in bed all day and does all the sick, depraved things he can think of to make Dean come apart under him, beg for more and more until he can't even talk any more.

But Sam takes it slower this time, gradual, deep thrusts inside Dean, and Dean can feel Sam's cock pushing the come around inside him. He's painfully hard again, wondering how the hell Sam does this. It's so filthy hot, even when Sam's taking it slow, and Dean doesn't think there's anything that Sam could do to him that wouldn't be fucking sinful.

"Mmm," Sam's mumbling into his ear, keeping up the easy little thrusts despite how much Dean knows he wants to pound Dean's ass hard and raw and sore. But he's saving that for later, and the thought makes Dean's belly coil, perpetual pool of heat that Sam puts there.

"So good, baby," Sam whispers, pausing in his thrusts and just burying himself in Dean. Dean whimpers and tries to push back, but Sam's as far as he can go. "So good for me." Dean mumbles an assent but he's too far gone to answer properly, to match Sam's words.

Sam picks up his pace again, and he's a little faster this time, quick, shallow thrusts in and out of Dean, and he reaches his arm around, this time grasping onto Dean's length, and Dean groans deep and low in his throat.

It only takes a few tugs before Dean's coming again, his vision flashing white as his orgasm wrenches through his body, somehow more intense than the last, and Dean hates how good Sam is at this. Or he loves it. What the fuck ever.

Sam doesn't pull out when he comes, breathing hard and ragged in Dean's ear, and the hot spill of Sam's come inside him fills him up so good that he feels complete inside, the knowledge of having two loads of Sam's come in him making him dizzy and a little weak at the knees.

So it's a good thing that Sam's not going anywhere, and Dean knows he's keeping his softening cock inside Dean to plug him up and keep him full for round three. Dean shivers despite the warmth of the room. He's so fucked.

Dean's pliant in Sam's arms as his brother reaches backwards and opens the drawer of the night stand, grabbing at something unseen and pulling it out. He's back against Dean without Dean even noticing, half asleep and fucked out and all he really wants to do is have a nap before Sam decides to go crazy on him again.

But Sam's pulling out of him and Dean grimaces, because he wants to stay full.

It doesn't matter when Sam pushes something cold and hard into his ass almost immediately, and Dean hisses around the intrusion, but Sam holds him steady and mumbles encouragement in his ear.

"Shh, baby," he whispers. "Just wanna see you."

Dean relaxes once the plug is all the way inside, almost as big as Sam's cock, and he tries to get some kind of kick out of it, but he's in a soft, sleepy haze and Sam spins him around until they're facing each other and Dean can't really focus on anything but his brother's face.

Sam pulls Dean flush against him, throwing an arm lazily over his waist and kissing his forehead sweetly, his soft, wet lips leaving a warm glow on Dean's skin.

Streaks of sunlight shimmer off Sam's cheekbones and his eyes glitter green and brown and blue in the afternoon glare that filters through the curtains. And Dean doesn't want to think anything like, _God, he's so beautiful, so fucking beautiful_ , so he stretches out instead, fits his body against his brother's and then settles so that they're nose to nose.

Sam's smiling at him, tiny quirk of his lips that makes Dean's insides twist and his head spin in the best way possible. He doesn't need to say it. But he does it anyway.

"Love you," he mumbles, pressing his lips softly against Sam's mouth and rubbing their noses together, figuring he couldn't possibly get any more gay than right now and if there's one thing about Dean, he doesn't do anything half-assed.

But Sam doesn't laugh at him or make fun of him like Dean would. Instead, he smiles wide and open, and fixes his stare into Dean's eyes like he has no reason to ever stop.

"Love you, Dean," he answers, and kisses Dean's cheek. Dean pretends to be grossed out and squirms in Sam's arms, and Sam laughs at him and swats him over the head, holding him tight so he can't move. Dean gives up and sighs against Sam's neck, burying his face there and being engulfed in the smell of _Sam_ , the cheap body wash and cooling sweat and bitter mixture of come and lube that seems to dust all over his skin. Sam presses his face into Dean's hair.

Like he said, he could get used to this.


End file.
